#chocolateforyou

“A … chocolate milk, coming right up then.” The bartender seems to have recollect himself from his surprise. “Do you want that hot or cold?”

“Hot,” Blaine mumbles, dropping his forehead to the bar the moment Gorgeous Barman moves away to prepare his drink. “I’m an idiot.”

Blaine really doesn’t know how long he stays like that, forehead pressed against the wood trying to overcome his embarrassment, but at some point, someone close to him clears their throat and Blaine straightens up.

Gorgeous Barman is back, pushing a truly decadent hot chocolate drink in front of him. As a matter of fact, he’s pushing two mugs in front of Blaine.

“Wh--”

“I thought it was a good idea,” Gorgeous Barman says with a crooked smile, leaning on his forearms--smooth, pale, strong forearms--on the counter. “So I made one for myself. Do you mind if I join you?”

“Not--not at all,” Blaine says, feeling his lips stretching into a smile. “That looks amazing.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m Blaine.”

“Kurt.”

---

Two more mugs of hot chocolate, the last one being slightly-not-slightly Irished, and a large plate of Buffalo wings later, Kurt and Blaine are the only ones left in the bar and they are having a silly battle with the wings’ bones as their lightsabers.

Blaine giggles as he drops his bone on the plate, licking his fingers as he does so. Kurt’s own laugh turns choked and Blaine looks back at him.

Kurt’s eyes are wide and darkened, and above all, attached to Blaine’s fingertips in his mouth.

Blaine feels his face heating up. He clears his throat. “I, um, maybe I should go. That was quite a healthy dose of whisky you poured in our last round.”

“I had a feeling you are a whisky man,” Kurt says, straightening up as he puts the empty mugs away. “Let me guess--you never planned on ordering chocolate milk, did you?”

“Yeah, no, that was not my plan.”

“Oh, you had a plan? A man with a plan,” Kurt giggles, snorting into his cleaning rag. “Blaine the man with the plan.”

“Well I did. I do. Usually.”

“Tell me, Blaine, what was the plan then?”

“My three usual drinks, my wings and then off I would go back home.”

“Usual drinks, you say?”

“Hm.”

“Let’s see if I have managed to get that bartending instincts.” Kurt takes two shotglasses and a bottle of vodka. “So first, whisky, for sure …” Kurt observes Blaine, tapping his lips with his fingers. “Old Fashioned?”

“Yep.”

Kurt pours one shot and pushes it toward Blaine. “Shot.”

“Wha--oh, okay, right.”

“Second one … hm, I don’t think you would stick to one drink.”

“No?”

“No. You’re more interesting than that.”

“You’re the most interesting here.”

Kurt freezes and then softens. “We’ll get back to that once I get it all right.”

“All right.”

“So, second drink. Something sweet, something fresh, something that will wake you up a little bit in case you run into someone you would want to be energetic for.”

“Wow.”

“Am I close?”

“So close.”

“Mhm … Mojito?”

Blaine picks up the bottle and fills up his shot himself before downing it.

Kurt claps his hands. “All right! Now for the homerun or whatever sport metaphor works best …”

Blaine snorts before clapping his hands over his mouth and nose.

“Don’t,” Kurt says softly, his fingertips brushing against the back of Blaine’s hands. “It was an adorable sound.”

“Adorable?”

“Adorable.”

The air between them is suddenly loaded with electricity.

“Ahem.”

“Third drink, now, that is tricky.” Kurt walks behind the bar, clearly aiming for the end of it before shaking his head and going back to his original spot, keeping the counter between them. “It can go two different ways.”

“Oh?”

“Either you usually decide to leave on a high, fun, note, or you decide to take something a little more straightforward to guarantee your sleep once home.”

“Ain’t nothing straight about whatever I do when I sleep.”

“No?”

“No.”

Kurt’s smile turns into a smirk. “I see.”

“Waiting on your thoughts on my third drink.”

Kurt hums before licks his lips. “I say … something sweet. Something a bit fruity. Something that says I am sure of my masculinity and I just want a good time.”

“That’s a lot of message from just one drink.”

Kurt cocks his head to the side. “I figure you have a lot say, my dear.”

Blaine’s flush is not just the product of the alcohol now.

“For all the reasons I listed,” Kurt continues as if unaware of the effect of his words on Blaine, “I say that your final drink of your night shall be a … Cosmopolitan.”

Blaine applauds him before pouring one last shot. “Congratulations, you do have bartender instincts.”

“Thank you, thank you,” Kurt says before leaning once again on the counter, resting on his forearms. “Now, what will be my prize?”

“We never discussed a prize.”

“Didn’t we?”

“No. But you did say we would discuss how interesting you are once you figured my incredibly predicting patterns of drinks.”

“I’d rather have a prize.”

“Me telling you that you’re the most interesting man to ever grace this bar is not prize enough.”

Kurt leans even forward. “That’s a good start.”

“I could tell you that you’re also the most gorgeous.”

“In this bar?”

“In this city.”

“Go on.”

Blaine stands up to mirror Kurt’s posture. “I could tell you,” he says, his voice dropping, “that I’ve felt intoxicated since I walked in and saw you long before you took out the bottle of whisky.”

Kurt’s eyes twinkle. “I’m a tall glass of … alcohol?”

“You’re a tall glass of you.”

“Aww.”

“Kurt?”

“Hm?”

“I would like to ask for two things.”

Kurt giggles. “I won and you get to ask for stuff?”

“I think you’ll appreciate them.”

“Go ahead.”

“I would like to ask you on a date this weekend.”

Kurt looks down, bashful. “I would indeed like that very much,” he replies softly.

“And I would like you to consider kissing me back when I walk you home after said date.”

Kurt looks up and they are standing very close as it is. “Oh?” He leans a bit forward. “No kiss for the winner right now?”

Blaine smiles, tilting his head to kiss Kurt’s cheek. “I’m a gentleman, sir,” he replies, feeling Kurt’s shaky exhale on his skin. “And I don’t want our first kiss to taste of chocolate and whisky.”

“Worst taste for a first kiss.”

“Still. This weekend.”

“This weekend.”

“I gave you my card.”

“You did.”

“So you’ll call me when you’re free?”

“And you already know what we will be doing?”

“I have a plan, remember?”

“A man with a plan,” Kurt says with a crooked smile. “I do like a man with a plan.”

(Blaine does have a plan.